Музыка

Musta Surma · September 29, 2013

o! 'tis a gala nightWithin the lonesome latter years!An angel throng, bewinged, bedightIn veils, and drowned in tears,Sit in a theatre, to seeA play of hopes and fears,While the orchestra breathes fitfullyThe music of the spheres.Mimes, in the form of God on high,Mutter and mumble low,And hither and thither fly -Mere puppets they, who come and goAt bidding of vast formless thingsThat shift the scenery to and fro,Flapping from out their Condor wingsInvisible Woe!That motley drama - oh, be sureIt shall not be forgot!With its Phantom chased for evermore,By a crowd that seize it not,Through a circle that ever returneth inTo the self-same spot,And much of Madness, and more of Sin,And Horror the soul of the plot.But see, amid the mimic routA crawling shape intrude!A blood-red thing that writhes from outThe scenic solitude!It writhes! - it writhes! - with mortal pangsThe mimes become its food,And seraphs sob at vermin fangsIn human gore imbued.Out - out are the lights - out all!And, over each quivering form,The curtain, a funeral pall,Comes down with the rush of a storm,While the angels, all pallid and wan,Uprising, unveiling, affirmThat the play is the tragedy, "Man,"And its hero the Conqueror Worm

Can I trust you, mortal boy?You say, you love me – oh, sure you do -,but what exactly does this affirmation mean?I do not have the slightest notion,No idea of what you understand by “love”And other terms as worn-outSuch as this old song and dance,You call romance.Quite different flowers grow indeedIn my small semantic garden… -So, let us see, if your good vowIs more than just some chemical imbalance.Is it worth the air you breathe,Or will it be just another waste of time with you?What I call “Love, precious and true”,Would you refer to this as sin,Or crime and all that sally crap,Now, let me put you to the test:How often have I heard these words:“I love you so much, dearest dear,That I would die for you, right now, right here!”Sure, doing this they’re sitting pretty,But I say: piss on it,Because this way is far too easy!!!But: do you also have the strengthTo be there for me till the end?Would you have courage, live for me,Respect my wishes, my decree?Would you defend me against the world,Fight the doctors playing God,Slap your priests, if they came near,Or anyone who interferes?!?Is the version of your Love as true,That you would use all means within your powerJust to meet the urgent plea,That solemn, final wish for dyingOf a helpless her or him,Who lies in pain, who’s suffering,Now only begging for the end, so tell me… -Is your “Love” that of a true friend?If I lay crying in my bed,Waiting, no longing for the end,If I decide my time has come,Would you then be that trustful oneTo guard this chamber, break this shell,And free me from this living hellBy making sure my death is swift.Would you grant me that sacred gift ?!?(Blessed is the flowerThat grows in the night,Blessed the poisonThat helps you to die.Blessed the guidanceOf the loyal friend,Blessed is he,Who brings the end)Now that you’ve heard it, let me know:Are you then willing to let go ?!?Say: would you do all this for me,Would you respect my wishes, my dignity?Because that’s what LOVE means to me